Battle Scar
by Black Stormraven
Summary: Rebels one-shot. Hera gets injured, leaving Kanan to take care of her. T for mild language.


**Based on a prompt from skyguyandsnips because I'm begging people to send me prompts for these two to get my feels out.**

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Cursing wasn't an uncommon occurrence on the _Ghost_, not with Kanan's temper and Hera's penchant for not holding back whenever she got pissed off. But this time the cursing was preceded by a very loud, painful "OW!" and a clatter of some kind of tool. The jolt Kanan felt through the Force pulled him to his feet and drew him down to the lower compartment of the ship he now called home. "Everything alright down there, captain?" he called down the hatch.

"Yeah, everything's fine," Hera shouted back, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I always curse like a sailor on leave when things are just peachy."

He ignored the caustic remark. "You need anything?"

"How about-" a loud _CLANG _echoed through the ship then "-a ship that won't bite me in the ass whenever I try to fix something that's broken."

Since she couldn't see him, Kanan didn't bother trying to disguise his chuckle. "Well, I've got nothing for that."

The sound of her stomping footsteps growing closer wiped his face free of any and all expression. Painted green lekku came into view through the open hatch as she started to climb the short ladder back into the main area of the ship. Kanan offered a hand up out of habit, but she didn't take it. She just continued cursing under her breath as she moved past him. Okay, that wasn't entirely normal. He followed her down the hall into the medbay. Now he was getting worried. "Hera, you okay?"

"Fine," she replied sharply, keeping her back to him as she searched the cabinets. "Chopper! What'd you do with that synthskin and bacta?"

Kanan's eyes went wide. "What do you need with those?"

"Oh gee, I dunno. How about for fixing this." She turned to him with one hand raised right in his face. Blood dripped from the palm where a deep cut slashed across the skin. "Or would you rather I leave bloody handprints all over the place."

The bite in her words didn't phase Kanan. The sight of the wound did, though. A wire must have snapped while she was working and cut her. He reached out to take the injured hand, but Hera snatched it back and resumed her search for first aid supplies. "Hera, calm down," he said gently. "I'll look for them. Just sit down and take it easy." She threw him a look over her shoulder that would have frozen a lesser man to the spot. But Kanan wasn't scared away that easily. He put his hands on her arms and steered her to the exam table. "You don't need to keep trying to do everything yourself, you know," he said as he reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a tube of bacta.

"How long have you had that?" she asked, pressing a large wad of gauze on the cut to staunch the bleeding.

"I always carry some with me." He gave her a grin when he looked up. "Never know when you'll need it. Now's a perfect example."

Hera didn't return the grin. "Well, aren't you just Mister Preparedness." Kanan didn't take offense at her tone; she was speaking out of pain. A low _whoop_ suddenly sounded down around his knees. "And just where the hell have you been?" Chopper made a noise that made the Jedi think of a lazy shrug. "Good to know I can count on you to hurry up when someone's hurt, bucket of bolts."

Chopper paused, whistled, then turned around to go back out the door. "She didn't mean that!" Kanan pleaded. "Tell him you didn't mean that or we'll never find that synthskin." She just glared at him. "Meaning you'll have to endure the healing process with nothing but a piece of cloth and disinfectant."

Hera held the glare a moment longer, then let out a harsh exhale. Her expression softened as she looked down at the droid. "I'm sorry, Chopper. I really didn't mean that."

Chopper turned again, apparently satisfied, and unlocked a cabinet near the far corner. When he returned, a new package of synthskin was clutched in his extension clamp. He gave it to Kanan with a suspicious "ta-da" noise before exiting the room to do stars-knew-what. "See what happens when you keep your temper under control?"

Hera's biting retort died in her throat when Kanan carefully took the gauze away from her palm and cradled the hand in his. "Shut up," was all she could manage. She watched with rapt fascination as Kanan treated the wound with utmost delicacy. Her gaze eventually slid to his face while he worked. Did he always get that little line on his forehead between his eyes when he was concentrating? What about that firm set of his mouth and jaw?

Hera was so caught up in her observation she didn't notice when he'd finished smoothing the synthskin over the gash. "All done," he declared triumphantly. "Not as good as a real healer, but at least your hand won't rot off."

The captain shook her head to refocus her thoughts. "Yeah. Piloting with one hand isn't something I'm eager to try out. Thanks, Kanan."

He bowed his head with a small smile. "No problem. But take it easy on the _Ghost. _She may decide to stop running altogether if you lose your temper with her again."

Hera rolled her eyes. "Can't make any promises on that front." Flexing the hand to test it, she found that the majority of the pain had faded to a dull ache. "Nice work. I guess I'll keep you around, Jedi."

"Good to know I'm useful for something around here," he laughed lightly.

Hera smiled at him, then hopped down from the table to leave him to clean up. _Yeah, I'll keep him._

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**I don't know exactly how synthskin and bacta are supposed to work, so meh. Annnnyway...**


End file.
